I was in the cloth shop the other day, spending hours wandering & staring at the colors and patterns, touching the different textures and I couldn’t help but thinking (and laughing really) and the fact that Mom used to drag me on her little fabric store excursions when I was little. And to me they were the worst possible thing in the world. I would have even chosen staying home for stick picking up with Dad than to go to the cloth shop…it was that awful! And now, I spend countless time in the store putting colors and patterns together, being on a first name basis with the ladies that work there. My childhood misery has become one of my favorite things. It is funny how that happens.